


This is my armour

by Drel_Murn



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Character Study, Gen, Loss, Stupid Cannon, armour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9899183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drel_Murn/pseuds/Drel_Murn
Summary: You will not tear me down.





	

Someone is shaking my shoulder, but I find that I do not quite care. People are calling my name, and the phone is carefully taken out of my fingers.

 

“What’s wrong?” I hear as if underwater. Then, “Oh. Everyone?”

 

Everyone. The words echo in my mind. Peter. Lucy. Edmund. The Professor, as far from him as I had grown. Eustace, and the female friend of his. Mum. Dad. Everyone.

 

“I understand,” Josephine says, and she sets the phone down.

 

“What is it?” some other girl asks.

 

“Apparently, almost all of her family died on that train accident we heard about earlier.”

 

“Oh, the poor thing.”

 

I don’t understand why everyone . . .why they would have been on the same train. There’s no reason for it, Peter and the professor should have survived - everyone was going out to the mansion, they shouldn’t have been on a train! I drag my fingers over the back of my forearm, looking for the scar I received from an enemy arrow in the battle against the White Witch, as Josephine steers me to my bed.

 

“There, there,” my room mate mutters, probably trying to be reassuring, but I can’t hear her over my panicked remembrance as my finger slide over smooth, scarless skin. This is not Narnia, and I am no longer a queen -  _ but what about Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Always a King of Queen of Narnia?  _ How am I not worthy of my kingdom?

 

And like my mind was waiting for the question, images are thrown enthusiastically behind my eyes. Lucy, when she told us about the wardrobe. Lucy, over and over again as I utter disbelief and ridicule against Narnia. Eustace, when I tell him it was all a game.

 

But am I not allowed to have armour? I was told that I would not be returning to the land that I loved, and so I set my face not on the past, but on the future. If I cannot fight for my people, then I will fight for myself in a world where so many are unappreciated and abused. Nylons and lipstick are the battle armour of women, in a world where we are told to stand around and be pretty. Invitations are the hole in my enemy’s defences, so why is it that my siblings never saw that? They forgot that I was a queen in a time where battles were not rare. I know how to cut my losses.

 

Aslan told me I could never come home again, so I made myself comfortable in a land that used to be mine. I made connections, and even though I’m only fifteen (thirty five), it’s these connections that will allow me to fight later. Because I have returned to a place I once called home, and found myself surrounded by inequality.

 

But all I can see is the hurt on Eustace’s face when I called Narnia a game. I can’t get enough air. My chest heaves as I try to breathe but it doesn’t help because I can’t breathe I can’t feel the air I can’t smell the dirt I’m drowning on dry land -

  
“Susan? Su, can you hear me? Someone get a doctor, I think she’s having a panic attack!”

**Author's Note:**

> So. I hope you guys like this.


End file.
